


Winter Wonderland

by LothrilZul



Series: Winter'verse [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Music, Christmas Special, Christmas Tree, Established Relationship, F/M, Feel-good, Fluff, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Pregnancy, Sad and Happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LothrilZul/pseuds/LothrilZul
Summary: Winter and Danse find some christmas decorations in an abandoned shack, which starts an avalanche of events.





	Winter Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> This came out longer than I expected, but I enjoyed writing it so much. My original idea, hence the title, will follow in the second part, what I didn't started writing yet, but I planned it out and I hope to post it this year! (Apparently I'm slower than I thought)

Winter and Danse were out on their usual scavenging trip, gradually exploring the forests and the cabins to the north and west of Sanctuary. She didn't even know if they were still in 'New England' or it was 'Vermont' already. The area was sparsely populated, most cabins containing ample loot, and there was a reason for it; the area was swarming with Yao Guai.

Entering a cabin with locked door, but no sign of ghouls or any life safe for radstags nearby, Winter rejoiced when she saw the cellar door.

"The cabin was locked. There's a chance that this cellar has all kind of pre-war goodies!" she rejoiced and tried to pull the trapdoor open, but she failed miserably.

"Let me help," her knight in power armor offered.

"That's why you are here, darling," she smiled at him, winking and stepped aside.

"Oh, and here I thought you had other reasons," he pouted and she couldn't help herself from laughing out loud. She clung to the rim of his chest plate, (dearly missing the so convenient handles of the earlier models) and pulling herself up, kissed him softly. It wasn't the first occasion she did this, so his arms came up around her without thinking, keeping her steadily, feet jingling a feet over the floorboard as the servos adjusted to her added weight.

"I have, love, never doubt it." She brushed her nose against his and kissed the tip of it, before looking into his umber eyes. "You are the big strong man in my life, my protector and guardian, the man who stole my heart and made me rethink some of my decisions and the one who stood by me no matter what. But you are also the opener of jammed jars and you are even more strong in your shiny armor, kind sir."

His beaming quickly withered at the last sentence and he made an indignant face, "Fancy way of saying 'pack mule'," he pointed out and gently placed her down to her soles.

"Ow." She frowned and idly nodded for a few seconds. "I thought we agreed on this strategy because it was the best option. We can swap roles if you want. You climb down into cellars, or through tight gaps, pick locks and hack terminals, while I watch your back in this sweet and protecting rig," she knocked on the round chest plate with a finger while he rolled his eyes. There was no way of him accepting these terms, both of them knew that.

"Negative," he shook his head with an elusive smile and ripped the trapdoor open. “Your filigran physique makes you the optimal choice for this part of the job,” he said, gesturing towards the dark cellar.

Winter nodded an 'I-know-right?’ to him and took in the contents of the little space under them, her eyes stopping on a rather dusty, elongated paper box. "You have to be kidding me," Winter rejoiced when she quickly climbed down to see it better. A quick inspection of the box revealed that it contained exactly what was depicted on it, sealed since before the bombs.

"What did you find?" Danse loomed over to see, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness down there.

"This!" she answered curtly, not really helping him out with her answer, grinning at the big white box, what she proceeded to lift it up to him. Given its nature it wasn't too heavy.

"And what _this_ might be?" he asked curiously, as he took the box from her, stowing it next to the wall on the ground floor, scanning the printings on it cluelessly.

"It's a faux pine tree, Danse! The packaging is still intact, it's in pristine condition! I bet it has all the branches and the joints are still good!"

"I don't see the importance of this plastic plant," he admitted, frowning at the box.

"I see," she chuckled as she looked around for more. Where there was a christmas tree, there might be baubles and ornaments too. Peeking under the lid of a paper box stashed on a metal shelving unit, she found those as she hoped. The second one contained light girlands, the third one christmas stockings and a beautiful red-white damask table cover. "I'll explain it when I'm out of this hole, okay? Handle this one carefully," she warned him as she handed him the box of baubles, anxiously watching as he placed it down without the sound of glass creaking. She adored how gently he could use his armor, she still felt a little rough in it. "There's quite a bit of ordinary loot down here too. Canned food, some chems, ammo, you know, the usual stuff. We shall call it a night."

"Perfect place to set up a bivouac," he agreed. "I'll secure the perimeter," he added and proceeded to close the shutters on both windows and barred the door from the inside.

 

After they moved up everything she deemed valuable (which meant almost everything besides the furniture), Winter kicked the trapdoor closed and settled down on the battered cot with a huff, waiting for her favourite part of the day. The part when she could hold him tight and forget everything else. The part, when the two of them can finally be one.

Like he could read her thoughts, Danse navigated his armor to an empty corner, evidently to exit it. She jumped to her feet and silently approached him, ready to embrace him as soon as he steps out. The release hissed, the armor opened up and he was hugged from behind not a second later his soles were on the ground. He didn't even flinch, he was used to this kind of welcome hug.

She pressed her ear against the back of his old orange uniform he still wore out of practicality, it was designed expressly for use with power armor. Not that she minded it, neither of them harbored ill feelings towards the Brotherhood.

Listening to his heartbeat and steady breathing, she wished they had more moments like this and less shooting and running and surviving. "I like when you're this close," he purred and brought her hand up to plant a kiss on her fingers.

She released him with a squeeze and an 'I love you' murmured against his scapula. He turned around, only to enclasp her again, "My turn," he said and pressed a long, warm kiss on the sensitive skin next to her collar bone, on her snowflake shaped splotches, rustling 'I love you too' against her skin where he buried his face into her neck. His breath tickled her skin and every slight move of his lips caused her to grow goose pimples.

"I suggest dinner, objections?" she proposed a while later and he tightened his hold for a moment before they unfolded from the hug.

"None. Is there any food we could eat without cooking?"

"Oh no, you won't eat a whole box of snack cakes for dinner again!" she chided him and he looked disheartened to hear it. "You'll get fat!"

"With our nightly schedule that is... unlikely," he observed matter-of-factly, which made her chuckle.

"I'll roast some radstag, given the oven works," she offered and he eagerly nodded. But before everything, she peeled a box of Fancy Lad's open and offered it to him, after stuffing a few sugary bits to her mouth. She didn't have to wait long before he helped himself to a few.

"I thought you said the menu is roasted stag?" he quirked an eyebrow at her before wolfing in his handful.

" _Id if_ ," she tried to speak full mouth, before swallowing a part of it and stuffing the rest aside in her mouth to talk, "But radstag takes a long time to be done, I wouldn't let you starve."

" _I fee_ ," he replied, munching on his mouthful of sugary goodness.

"You're grumpy in the morning if you didn't eat meat for dinner." His eyes rounded for a moment, then his brows came down as he silently sulked. "Yep, exactly like that!" she exclaimed as she placed her hands behind his ears and pulled his face down to kiss his forehead to propitiate him, his mouth still busy with chewing. "But I'm about to cook you dinner, am I not?" She smiled at him warmly and he nodded, eyelids closing. She loved how he dropped his guard when he was with her, it made her feel so warm and fuzzy inside. And on the other hand, cautious as hell. She wasn't sure if he ever let his guard down, but it _looked like_ he did sometimes, which made her extremely anxious.

 

To both of their luck, the oven worked, so she set to work. There was a small assortment of spices she found or traded for during the years which allowed her to cook some of her pre-war recipes, albeit modified to fit the wasteland ingredients.

While she prepared the meal, Danse finished taking inventory of their findings using her Pip-Boy, leaving the holiday boxes to the end. He opened all three boxes, stashing the lids to the side, as he curiously inspected their content. He carefully lifted a red bauble by it's hanger and gave it a little spin. As Winter noticed what he was doing, she couldn't get the image of a cat playing with the christmas ornaments out of her head.

"These glass ornaments are impractical and frail," he remarked absently. "They don't make any sense."

“Ornaments do not make sense, Danse, they just are. All they have to do is look good. The glass ones gleam nicely and are lighter, but in turn they were more expensive and very fragile. But just like there were artificial trees, there were plastic baubles as well. Those little blue ones, for example,” she pointed at the box with her meat fork.

“What was the point of decorating a plastic pine tree with shiny spheres?”

“It was a tradition, age old even before the war. You got me right here, I don’t know why, but my family insisted on having a tree every year. Mostly a real one, my favourite was a silver fir.”

“This one looks quite small for that,” he glanced at the box containing the folded tree.

“What do you mean? It’s seven feet tall, that’s pretty average.”

“I saw some pictures of people dancing around trees multiple times their height,” he elaborated and Winter made a slow ‘uh-huh’ nod.

“What you are referring to is a romantic depiction of a community tree, I guess. Sometimes those were actual, living trees next to the church what the people decorated every year, while bigger cities tended to fetch their decorations from the rural area. Mass Fusion, for example, had a tree that almost rose as high as their glass floor. I saw when I had to file a complaint. Those trees were disposed after the holiday along with the small ones from people’s homes.”

“People actually cut down real trees to decorate the slowly dying plant indoors, only to threw them out few weeks later? That’s positively barbaric.”

“Well, if you put it that way, it is,” she laughed. “I never thought of it that way. Maybe that’s why faux pine was a thing. And I currently have no other choices if I want a proper Christmas tree. I don’t consider Mac’s version a valid option,” she chuckled.

“Wait. Was _that_ a Christmas tree?” he stared at her astonished.

“Yup.”

“But it was February! And it was decorated with frags and ammunition belts!”

“Don’t forget the mini nuke replica from the top! No wonder he was so proud of it he kept it for three months,” she added laughing. “Duncan loved it, and that’s what matters. The frags were painted gold, and it wasn’t half bad, admit it.”

He just grumbled, slowly shaking his head. “That _tree_ was made of branches and empty beer bottles.”

“Most creative, I say,” she reciprocated. “At least it was green, hm?”

“In the light of that I’ll cherish this plastic pine, should you choose to decorate it,” he said quietly, continuing his inspection of christmas accessories. “I suppose the enormous, mismatched footwear had its purpose as well?”

“Yes. Those are stockings, they were for the presents, not actual footwear. People hanged these on the fireplace, so when Santa climbed down the chimney, he could stuff the gifts in. Provided they fit inside, of course. Otherwise, or if the person didn’t had a fireplace, the presents were put under the tree itself. My parents were from Europe, so we never used stockings, but Nate had them when we moved together. What do you think? Where’d you rather like your presents?”

“All the same for me,” he shrugged. “I already have everything I need.” He sent her such a look that made her blush, despite the years they were together.

“Same here,” she smiled back warmly before turning around to inspect her pepper mill. A deserted cabin in a mutated bear haunted forest was not exactly the place to tell him the nature of her gift. It certainly not what he would expect.

Of course he instantly perceived her mood shift, “If there’s something wrong, I want to know.”

She snapped the pepper mill down a little to harshly, it made her flinch.

“Nothing's wrong. Actually, it couldn’t be any better,” she added enigmatically.

“You already got something, didn’t you?” he inquired.

She went over to cuddle with him a little and to press a quick kiss on his lips. “Yep, I got it already wrapped,” she confirmed, nodding proudly.

“It’s September,” he reminded her matter-of-factly.

“Some things are just good enough to wait for them,” she winked.

“Hmmm, what did you have for me?” He apparently misunderstood her intention, because he playfully grabbed her waist and kissed her passionately, slowly starting to unbutton her tartan shirt.

She reluctantly broke off the kiss. “Slow down, big guy, or the roast will be crispier than a toast,” she warned him and gently pushed him back. He looked genuinely heartbroken for a split second, then shrugged it off. “Good. You are cute when you are sulking, but I love it more when you are in happy mood. Would you be so kind to inspect that damask tablecloth? See if it has holes or something?”

“All right,” he nodded, dutifully turning around to attend to his task and she took her chance to grope his perfect ass before she darted back to cooking. “Never miss your chance, do you?”

“Never.” She laughed and mimicked an mock-innocent gesture, one hand before her mouth, the other set into the air in hip-height, her eyes looking up to the sky.

The table cloths was neatly folded, and Danse wasted no time as he grabbed one corner in each hands and shook it to unfold the material. The cloth was unblemished, and as it rolled off, something clattered to the floor.

“Let me see was that was, don’t even think about putting this gorgeous cloth down to the filthy floor,” she exclaimed, effectively making him freeze to the spot. The cover was longer than how tall he was, so he had to hold his arms high if he wanted to avoid brushing it to the floor. Winter saw that and reassured him, “I’ll help you fold it in a moment.”

She found the item that fall out of the bundle; it was a holotape. ‘Holiday songs’ the label read and her face set to an ear-to-ear grin. She quickly tucked it into her Pip-Boy and the sound of sleigh bells ringing filled the little room.

“Here,” she said and picked up the bottom corners of the cloth, helping him to fold it half. After that it was small enough for one person to handle, he folded it with such a routine that made her wonder when and how he learned it. “I’m fascinated by your folding skills, soldier,” she commended him and pressed a kiss on his shoulder.

“Paladin Krieg made sure to show me how hard the work of everyone in the Brotherhood affected everyone else. I spent a week in the laundry, the kitchen and even with the plumbing unit. Never peeled that much tato in my entire life,” he shuddered.

“And you returned the favor by making me do the same?” she asked huffing, remembering her longest uninterrupted week aboard the Prydwen. She even filed a request to Elder Maxson to save herself from the duty, but he denied it with spreaded hands. She was sure that every initiate went through the tato-torture before they were promoted to higher ranks.

“I had time to think during the peeling and apparently, you had too.”

Before she could reply anything to that, ‘White Christmas’ from Bing Crosby started playing, “I love this song!”, she exclaimed and started to sing along. Danse offered his arm and moments later they were dancing slowly to the tune, huddled close to each other. It turned out earlier he liked to dance, and was quite good at it.

After the song ended, she sighed, “I miss radiation free snow, you know. I miss building a snowman or a good snowball fight.”

“I never realized how much you like winter season.”

“Come on, Danse. I even named myself after it!” she giggled.

“I thought that was a word-play,” he debated with knitted brows.

“Partially,” she admitted. “I just thought it fitted me more than my original name.”

“Theresa, nothing’s wrong with your name,” he told her intently, ready to fight for his point.

“It’s boring, and admit it, General Winter sounds better than General Irwin or General Müller.”

“Sentinel Müller sounds good too,” he argued.

“Gosh, the roast!” she exclaimed suddenly and a moment later he smelled the unmistakable scent of burning too. Winter quickly equipped a pair of oven mitts and pulled the meal out of the oven, dropping it to the floor in disgust. She gathered the meat fork and poked it. “Huh, good. It’s only the surface, it’s still good inside.”

Danse’s stomach grumbled hungrily and he failed to suppress the grateful smile occupying his face. Winter picked up the tray and stashed it on the counter. She quickly portioned a chop to both their plates and left it to cool down.

Now that the food was out of her thoughts, her mind wandered to their _nightly schedule_ , as Danse called it recently and she bit her lower lip. She turned the playlist off and unbuckled her Pip-Boy to place it down to a small table, “Please remind me to bring this holotape over to Travis. These songs would brighten up Christmas this year, I don’t think anyone remembers them on this side of the Apocalypse.”

“Mhmmm,” he crooned as he gathered her up bridal style and carried her to the cot, peppering her with soft, claiming kisses. He knew from experience there were exactly three reasons she took her Pip-Boy off for. First was to hand it to him for inventorying, but he was done with that already, while the other two involved taking her clothes off too and there was no hot bath or shower around at the moment.

 

They were hands and kisses and lips everywhere for a few minutes before Danse abruptly perched his head up, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, “Wait! Shouldn’t you be on your period?”

“No, I shouldn’t,” she kissed into the nape of his neck and tried to yank him down again but he refused, keeping himself hovered over her with those muscular arms of his.

“What’s the date?” he inquired.

“Really? It’s 23th or 24th, I don’t know. Go check the Pip-Boy if you are that so curious,” she pouted rejected. She just hoped he wouldn’t puzzle it together yet.

“If that’s true then you _should_ be,” he deducted and pulled back to sit up, leaning to the wall, eyes closed, hands inanimately laying on his lap, instead of touching her, well, anywhere.

“Since when you concern yourself with my period?” she asked agape.

“Since you were put under my command.”

“Excuse me?” She must have misheard it. He couldn't have admitted to that.

“As your commander, I had to ensure you can operate at your full potential. I scheduled our tasks accordingly,” he explained, slightly blushing. “Noone wants to be surprised by a deathclaw which picked up the scent of blood.”

They never talked about it earlier, she just assumed he was that so empathetic. She never would have thought he actually kept record of her cycle.

“Good that I’m not, right?” she delayed answering, but deep inside she knew it was only self-deception.

“You tell me,” he suggested coldly on his Paladin voice. It made her halt in her steps back when she was Knight, but it was rare he used this tone nowadays, and when he did, he demanded answers. Uh-oh.

“Okay, just don’t be mad,” she pleaded as she buttoned her shirt all the way up.

He sighed through his nose, peering at her, “I’m not _mad_ , I just want to understand what’s happening. Was your period irregular ever before?”

“No, it was like a swiss clock, not even the cryostasis changed that. If you really followed my cycle, you already know that.” Damn this stubborn, smart man and his perceptive skill. Of course he puzzled it together. “I believe you already know why it’s late.”

“I… have a suspicion, which leaves me with a lot of questions,” he frowned.

“You probably are right, so ask them.” She waved half-heartedly. She didn’t want to have this conversation right here, right now, not yet anyway, but there was no chance to delay it any further.

“When did you want to tell me?” he asked equally sulking and hurt.

“In two weeks,” she replied without thinking. “I had Dr. Forsythe examine me a few weeks ago, and he confirmed my condition. I wanted to tell you when I reached the second trimester and the fetus was developing well.”

“Is it?” he asked alarmed.

“Yes, he’s a completely healthy 10 and a half week old little bundle of joy,” she reassured him.

“So that was the reason of our visit to Vault 81 not long ago,” he realized. “May I?” he asked, hovering his hand timidly in the air.

“Darling, he’s yours just as much as mine,” she said and guided his hand above her uterus. “It will be a month or two till he moves, though.”

“He?” he asked bemused, caressing her almost still flat belly.

“I think it’s a boy. There are folk practices to determine the sex of the unborn child, one of them prognosticate from the lack of morning sickness. If that’s true, we’ll have a son. I never experienced morning sickness with Shaun, neither with him,” she finished, splaying her hand on top of his.

“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” Danse asked so concerned that made her heart melt right away.

“This may come to you as a shock, but I’ve been pregnant before, Danse,” she told him flatly.

“I’d appreciate if you were not joking about my unborn child,” he raised a brow.

“See? That’s the reason I didn’t tell you yet. You know about him like ten minutes and you already protect him.” He shot her a confused look. “Don’t get me wrong, that’s good, and I’m sure you will be a fantastic dad, but there’s no need to patronize me. Pregnancy is a part of life, it usually progresses without complications.”

“Usually,” he parroted nervously, to which she rolled her eyes.

“I already had a full term healthy son. I know I am capable of giving birth.” She knew that he knew this assertion was nothing more than reflection of her self-confidence, as Shaun was delivered with a programmed caesarian section.

“I admit, the process of giving birth scares me more than it should, but I’m more concerned with what follows,” he sighed and pulled her on his lap to give her a cheek kiss.

“Well, I have three month experience with caring for a baby,” she said, cupping his face and saw his laughing wrinkles dancing, “After that, we’ll improvise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I read it through a few times, but please tell me if you find typos.
> 
> Also, comments are lovely!


End file.
